How It Is
by Isha-libran
Summary: ‘Mal,’ she said, and then she stopped when he raised his hand to her face. His fingers were trembling.


Title: How it is  
Ship: Mal/Inara  
Timeline: Post BDM  
Rating: M!

Word count: A _whopping_ 11,002!! Consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer: I am 21, female and not wildly talented. In other words, I am not Joss Whedon. Ergo, these wonderful characters do not belong to me. So please don't sue me.

A/N: Spoilers for 'Serenity'! Run, run for your life from the big damn spoilers!

In fact, run to the nearest DVD shop and pick up 'Serenity'.Warning: This fic is, in parts, a cheesy Mills and Boon type thing because… I don't know why because.

Eh, just read it.

--

Inara sighed as she pulled herself upright. It was no use. She had been staring at the draperies over her bed for the past half an hour. Sleep was slow in coming tonight.

Sleep was slow in coming almost every night.

She pulled on a robe and turned on a light, blinking a little in the sudden brightness. She rubbed a hand at her forehead, wondering if there were any wrinkles there. She felt vaguely that there should be, with all the thinking and worrying she had been doing lately.

Mal had been working the diminished crew especially hard in the two weeks after Miranda. He was of the opinion that they couldn't be sure how long the Operative's reprieve would last, and that soon, the Alliance could be on their trail again. He'd said that he intended to have a good lump of platinum stored away by the time the axe fell and they had to take to running again. Zoe had been grimly in agreement with him, and together, they were working everyone to the bone.

River was saner more often than not nowadays; her lucid periods were growing longer and longer. Inara could see that the girl would never truly go back to how Simon said she used to be, and she had long ago accepted River's strangeness. Simon, however, still fretted over her, trying to return her to the _mei mei_ of his childhood.

The girl had proven to be a fine pilot, taking to flying almost instinctively. But she was not Wash. Even when she pulled off a Crazy Ivan a week after she'd first taken the pilot seat, she was not Wash.

That thought weighed heavily on all of them, Inara could see the crushing weight of it in Zoe's eyes. She had to work hard not to flinch whenever she saw it, unsure of how to comfort this strong woman in her hour of grief. She had tried talking to Zoe once, had asked the woman to come to the shuttle, poured her some tea… and Zoe had sat there in silence while Inara had struggled to draw her out on the subject of Wash.

It had not been very helpful, to say the least. Inara had never felt more useless, it cut her to the quick, the fact that she couldn't use her much vaunted Companion training to help Zoe. The woman roamed the ship like a ghost, barely alive, never crying, never breaking her calm. The very depth of her restraint showed how badly she was hurting.

Inara had hoped that maybe Mal would be able to help the first mate where she hadn't, but he was hardly better, going about his beloved ship with angry eyes and a weary stride. At times, she wondered if he'd _ever_ felt like he'd achieved a victory that day in Mr. Universe's compound.

Inara sighed again, and rubbed her temples. Thinking like this was not helping matters any. She needed to distract herself in some way. Sliding the door of the shuttle open, she stepped onto the catwalks, walking down the stairs to the galley. Maybe a cup of tea, with a shot of something stronger…

She stopped as she saw the light. Someone was already up, she could hear the clanking of the pots and pans now. She moved quickly, peering into the kitchen.

Kaylee was at the table, pouring herself a drink of milk. There was a plate of biscuits next to her mug.

Inara's features relaxed into a half smile. The younger woman was in what was clearly not her shirt, the garment hung to mid thigh, a blatant indicator of just whose bunk she had tumbled out of.

'You're up late.'

Kaylee jumped, spinning around and laughing weakly.

'Nara! You gave me a fright.'

She inclined her head in apology, and Kaylee deftly poured another mug of milk and pushed the biscuits to her as she sat down.

Inara took a sip of the milk, smiling. She couldn't remember the last time she had had warm milk before bed.

'You didn't answer my question,' she said. 'What are you doing up so late?'

'Couldn't sleep,' Kaylee said softly. 'Thought I'd get myself something to drink, help me relax.'

She nodded, frowning. They were all still trying to rebuild themselves after Miranda, but the idea that Kaylee, the indefatigable optimist, was having nightmares didn't sit well with her.

'I have some lavender oil,' she offered. 'You can put a few drops on your pillow, it will help you sleep better.'

'Didn't help you none, did it?' Kaylee asked, eyeing the circles under her eyes. ' 'Sides, Simon usually…distracts me…whenever I wake up in the middle of the night. He just looked so tired tonight that I didn't want to wake him.'

Inara felt a smile tug at her lips. In the days following the funeral on Haven, Simon and Kaylee had crashed into each other with all the force of two comets colliding. Their romance was intense and all consuming, seeming to fill them both with a blinding, dazzling happiness that all but radiated from them.

Somedays, Inara felt that maybe they could light up Serenity with it, make the ship feel like a home again, instead of a tomb.

'I'm glad you got what you wanted, _mei mei_,' she said suddenly, laying a gentle hand on the other girl's arm.

'I'm sure you will, too, Nara,' Kaylee replied, smiling brilliantly. 'Pretty soon, too.'

Just as she opened her mouth to answer, Mal burst into the room.

Inara stifled a cry of surprise as she sprang up from her seat.

That was when she saw the gun clutched in his outstretched hand.

She gasped, even as Kaylee cried 'Cap'n!'

Mal paid them no mind, his eyes darting all over the room as he swung the gun around wildly. Seeing no one, he moved quickly toward them, his eyes roving over their forms.

'You alright?' he asked jerkily. 'Not hurt anywhere?'

Inara shook her head, Kaylee doing the same. 'Mal,' she said, and then she stopped when he raised his hand to her face.

His fingers were trembling.

'We're all fine, Cap'n,' Kaylee said, her voice high pitched in her distress. 'Everything's shiny. You just had a bad dream, looks like.'

His hand stopped inches from her cheek. He scrubbed it over his own face, instead, and his eyes were bleak when he opened them.

'Gorramn nightmares,' he said, dropping into a seat at the table. He sighed then, and there was a world of weariness in the sound.

'We're all shiny, Cap'n,' Kaylee repeated, obviously wanting to reassure him. Inara felt a similar need herself, wanting to put her arms around this tired, broken man who had taken on the responsibility of keeping his crew—his family—safe at all costs. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she was sure he'd rebuff her gesture.

'You're having a cup of tea, Mal,' she said firmly, moving toward the stove. She wasn't going to take no for answer tonight. She was going to help him even if she had fight him tooth and nail.

He stared at her for a while before he nodded. The fact that he didn't object or say anything about 'fancy teas' frightened her more than she cared to admit. That he was too tired to work up the energy for snappy comeback was not a good sign.

She moved to the cabinet where she stored her supplies, the hopeless look in his eyes making her mind up for her. She turned so that her body blocked her movements, and reached for a special packet at the back of the cabinet. She tipped the tea leaves into the mug and, moving to the stove, quickly set the water to boil.

Five minutes later, Mal was sipping at the tea, listening to Kaylee talk as she tried to distract him with her prattle. Inara noticed that he still clutched his gun in a death grip, almost like he expected trouble to erupt at any moment.

It was another minute before he yawned, his eyes sleepily surprised. 'Not that you're boring me, Lil' Kaylee,' he said to her, yawning again, 'But would you be minding very much if we continued this conversation tomorrow? I'm feeling awful sleepy all'f'a sudden.'

Kaylee nodded, watching with anxious eyes as he got up from the table. Inara mantained a neutral expression, careful not to let her triumph show. He turned and stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed in speculation, before he yawned again. He turned then, and trudged silently away to his bunk.

As Mal's footsteps died away, Kaylee turned to her.

'What'd you put in his drink?' she asked curiously.

Inara smiled at Kaylee's perceptiveness. 'It's a special kind of tea,' she replied, sipping at her now cold milk. 'Companions use it when we have a client who doesn't exactly…live upto our expectations.'

'You _drug_ them?' Kaylee asked, her eyes round.

'Only if they are disagreeable in some way,' she replied, smiling a little at the look on the girl's face. 'I'd left a few packets here for Simon to use if River ever needed it.'

'You drugged the _Captain_,' Kaylee said dazedly, before a smile broke out on her face. 'Well, if it helps him any, it'll be pretty shiny!'

Inara nodded, finishing her drink quickly. It certainly wouldn't hurt Mal to have a good night's rest, for once. She only wished he would think of that tomorrow before he yelled at her for drugging him.

She firmed her shoulders resolutely. Even if he brought the whole ship down, she wasn't going to apologise. He'd needed the respite, and she'd given it to him. She would have taken some of the tea herself, were it not for the fact that a drugged sleep didn't much appeal to her.

'It's late, and you should get back to bed soon,' she said to Kaylee, laying a hand on the girl's shoulder as she got up. 'Mal won't be very happy tomorrow,' she added wryly. ' I don't want him to take it out on you.'

Kaylee shrugged off her concern with a smile, and made her way to Simon's bunk with a wave. Inara turned, and headed to the shuttle, hoping that sleep would finally claim her tonight, thoughts of Mal's reaction on the morrow dancing in her mind.

The next day, she wouldn't admit, even to herself, that she was nervous about meeting Mal. So it was a surprise when, after entering the galley that morning bracing herself for a fight, he looked up at her with calm blue eyes.

She dropped into her seat silently, risking a glance in his direction when the rest of the crew was occupied. He was looking right at her, and she could see in his eyes that he knew what she had done last night, but try as she might, she found no anger there.

Then, he stunned her when he leaned forward and said in a tone low enough that only she could hear, 'Thank you.'

She blinked at him, unsure that she had heard correctly. She had never heard him say those words before—certainly never to _her_—and all she could do was incline her head in silent acknowledgement.

He looked away from her then, joining in Zoe and Jayne's conversation on their latest job. She mechanically spooned some of the protein mash into her plate with hands that shook slightly, still staggering from Mal's reaction.

Just when she thought she'd figured him out…

And that was how it began.

--

It had been nearly a week since Inara had drugged him to sleep and Mal hadn't said another word to her about it since the time he had thanked her for it. They spoke only about other things, never touching on that particular topic whenever they had the occasional conversation.

They had also very carefully never spoken about the rent, him and Inara, always skirting around it whenever the topic of finances came up.

She hadn't outright come and said that she was going to be staying, and he wasn't going to be the one to ask her about it. If she _was_ leaving, however, he was damned if he was going to take her money.

She had left. Simple as that.

She had left when he'd all but broken down and confessed to her how much he cared for her. Just turned right around and walked away, like there had never been anything more than a business arrangement between them.

And the only reason she was back was because of the Operative.

If that _hwoon dan_ hadn't trapped her into waving him, she'd never have ended up on Serenity again. Probably would have become House Preistess or some such, and never looked back, never given him or his crew a second thought, while all the while, _he'd_ have been…

He shook his head as he hauled a crate onto the mule. Zoe gave him a funny look, but he ignored it. This wasn't something he particularly wanted to talk about. Not even with her.

Mal stretched, wincing as he felt his neck pop. He hadn't slept much the previous night, and hauling all these heavy crates around wasn't helping his weariness any. Come to think of it, the last time he'd had a good night was when Inara had given him that dopey tea.

He still wasn't very sure what had prompted him to thank her for it. By rights, he should've chewed her out over it, his problems were no one's business but his own.

Everyone knew that, hell, even Zoe knew better than to press him on this front. The both of them tiptoed carefully around each other's pain, inspite of all they'd been through together. She was there when he needed her, but she never, _ever_ pushed.

But what made him tamp down on his anger was that Inara'd done it out of concern for him. Even _he_ could see that.

And a night's peace was a hard thing to come by, these days, even if he didn't want to admit it.

In the end, her naked concern had won, and he'd felt oddly grateful to her, to the extent of showing it before he'd even thought about it.

He firmed his jaw as Jayne handed him another crate. He needed to be careful, he couldn't let her pull him under again. From now on, he'd be more clear headed around her. Not uncivil, but just more cool and unemotional. He couldn't let her burrow under his skin any deeper than she already had.

It would only hurt more when she left again, as she inevitably would.

He had once had faith, and he'd lost it. He had survived that, but he didn't think he could survive having love and then losing it.

--

This was how it almost stopped.

Inara had been sitting on the catwalks, talking and laughing with Kaylee about nothing in particular. She had been enjoying the brief respite from the darkness that cast a pall over the ship, when the mechanic uttered a panic stricken cry.

'Cap'n! Zoe, what happened?'

Zoe was supporting a bleeding Mal as he stumbled onto the ship, Jayne giving them cover fire. The mercenary was bleeding too, but he squeezed off a few rounds from the gun tucked under his arm before the doors slid shut.

'Was an ambush,' Zoe replied curtly, her eyes on Mal's wound. 'Go run and tell the doc we need him. And Kaylee?' She locked gazes with the girl. 'Tell him it's bad.'

Inara watched as the younger girl's eyes widened in fear before she took off running, stumbling a little in her haste. Her frantic calls for Simon echoed around the ship as Mal slid to the floor, knees buckling.

'Mal!'

She was next to him in an instant, watching the blood gushing from the bullet hole in his chest in horror. His lung was punctured, her mind supplied mechanically, as she observed the blood flecking his lips as he struggled to breathe. Her vision blurred as Serenity took off with a bump, and Mal winced. Her hands covered his chest almost automatically, and Zoe nodded at her approvingly.

'Keep pressure there,' she said as she tore a strip off her shirt. She bound the makeshift bandage to Mal's shoulder, where blood flowed from another wound. He flinched at the movement, and Inara's hands tightened on his chest.

Mal turned to face her, blue eyes glazed with pain, and she wondered if he was strong enough to hold on until Simon arrived. She flinched when he brushed a blood soaked hand over her face, and it was then that she realised that there was a tear tracking down her cheek.

He opened his mouth to speak, and coughed violently, even as Inara and Zoe both worked to hold him down. He pushed their hands away, trying to curl up on his side, and it was only when Jayne limped over to help hold Mal down that he lay still.

'What is it? What's wrong?'

Simon pushed them out of the way as he knelt beside Mal, Zoe giving him the details in clipped sentences.

'Was an ambush. He was shot in the chest, and knifed in the shoulder. Been about ten-fifteen minutes since both.'

Simon nodded, cutting Mal's shirt open to see to the wound more clearly. Irrationally, Inara winced. That blue shirt had been her favourite, she hated to see it ruined.

She snapped back to the present when Simon applied a bandage to the wound and gave Mal some pain supressants. 'We need to move him to the infirmary right _now_,' he said. 'You—Jayne, you're the only one strong enough,' he barked.

The big man was already reaching for him, and Jayne lifted him up with a grunt as Mal groaned in pain. He strode off for the infirmary, with Simon running ahead to keep everything ready.

Zoe and Inara trailed behind, and soon they were in the infirmary, watching breathlessly as Simon prepared to work on Mal. River had evidently set the ship on auto pilot, she was standing hand in hand with Kaylee, face streaked with tears. The moment she saw Inara, she rushed over.

'I didn't know,' she cried, scrubbing feverishly at her temple. 'I couldn't hear it, I couldn't see it coming—I didn't _know_,' she wailed.

'It's alright, River,' she said through stiff lips. 'It wasn't your fault.'

'I need you all to clear out now,' Simon said curtly, pulling his surgical gloves on. 'I'll be putting him under in a minute.'

'We'll see you again soon, Sir,' Zoe said grimly, bending over Mal's still form. He blinked at her, and she went on, a tiny tremor in her voice, 'You'd better be here when I come back, Mal. I'm not losing you, too.'

Then she turned and brushed her way past the rest of them, blinking furiously. Inara shoved past River and Kaylee, and clutched Mal's hand in hers.

'Mal,' she said shakily. 'Come back to us,' she said, voice unsteady . 'Say you'll come back to us.'

He nodded, and then winced as Simon pushed the needle into his arm. He stared at her for one timeless minute, and Inara was sickeningly reminded of that time he had left them to the Reavers on Mr. Universe's planet, when the look they had shared could have well been their last.

And then his eyes slipped shut.

Kaylee pulled her out of the infirmary, and Simon shut the door in their faces. Jayne limped out to join them, heedless of the blood flowing from his own wounds. Zoe reappeared then, and silently went to work bandaging him and herself with a roll of gauze she had acquired from somewhere.

Inara would never really recall how she spent the next few hours, she knew River had nearly been hysterical, and it had taken them a long time to calm her down. She had been aware of the commotion only peripherally, she only had eyes for Simon, working desperately over Mal's too still body.

Zoe stood beside her, her face a rigid mask that revealed the terrific strain she was under. When Mal suddenly spasmed on the operating table, she gripped Inara's hand in a vice like grip. His breathing evened out again when Simon injected him with something, and Zoe's hold relaxed.

The other woman raised her hand suddenly and winced, and Inara remembered that she still had Mal's blood on her hands. She looked down at herself, Mal's blood covered her dress as well, she knew she would never wear it again.

She knew without looking that her fingers would be stained a dark red, the blood had even spread under her fingernails. Inara rubbed them together, and they were sticky, but she refused to clean them. It was illogical, but in that moment she felt that if she succeeded in washing away Mal's life blood, he would somehow be washed away as well, never to return.

It was to be another two hours before Simon opened the doors, his face drawn and haggard.

'He's sleeping now,' he said in reply to their unspoken question. 'I've repaired all the internal damage and removed the bullet, but he's not out of the woods yet.'

'What—' Inara stopped, and tried again. 'What does that mean?'

'It means I've done all I can,' he replied, giving her a sympathetic look.

Kaylee gasped, while Jayne cursed.

'It would be best if someone were to sit with him,' Simon went on, and Inara nodded wordlessly.

'He'll be alright,' River said suddenly, her voice stronger than it had been for hours. 'He's too gorramn stubborn to die just cause the 'verse wants him to.' The girl mimicked Mal's speech pattern perfectly as she said this, and she stared right at her.

'He'll be alright,' River repeated, and this time, Inara was able to believe her.

Mal woke up the next morning, but it was to be another day before he was fully conscious of what was happening around him. The road to recovery was not smooth, a week later, he was still weak, and tired easily after doing the most simple of tasks. Zoe had taken over as acting Captain, but didn't accept any jobs. They had enough to tide them over until Mal got back on his feet, she'd said.

Inara found him in the kitchen that night, after she'd lost another bout with insomnia. He was sitting in his customary chair, sipping at his mug. He held himself ram rod straight instead of the casual posture he usually adopted, his wound obviously still hurt him.

'You're up late.'

He didn't seem surprised to see her, although maybe that was just the extent of his weariness.

'So're you.'

She inclined her head in assent, joining him at the table. He said nothing more, and she was content to let the silence surround them. It was rare that they had such quiet moments like these, it seemed there was always something to talk about, as if the silences between them were dangerous.

'I got you something,' she said finally.

He cocked a brow in silent inquiry.

'Wait here, and I'll get it for you,' she said in reply.

It took her but a moment to get back to the shuttle, and she pulled the package out of her trunk. She returned to the galley and handed it to him as she sat down again, feeling a pang of trepidation as she did so.

'Here, consider it a 'I'm-glad-you're-not-dead' present.'

He ripped the paper open, and glanced up at her in surprise.

'It's a shirt,' he said quizzically.

'Your last blue one was ripped up by Simon and I thought…' she trailed off, shrugging.

'I—Thank you,' he said softly, eyes on his hand as ran it over the soft material.

'Don't expect any more of these, though,' she said, mock sternly. 'I'm not made of money—so you can't get yourself shot again, you hear me?'

The last sentence sounded wrong, she had meant it to be light and teasing, instead it had come out pleading and nearly desperate. It had him raising his eyes to her in shock, and she dropped her own gaze to the shirt, slightly dazed at what she had just revealed to him.

He cleared his throat, scratching at his ear. 'Where did you get it?'

'On that last planet where we refueled. You were asleep at the time.'

There was a slight pause, and he nodded.

'I—um, I should go now,' she said quickly, making a fast escape.

He nodded, eyes on the shirt again as she left.

--

She had gotten him a shirt.

He didn't know why it should matter so, the fact that she had given him a shirt to replace the old one. He had worn it to breakfast the next day, and her smile as she had looked at him had been brilliant.

It was just a shirt, very like the old one in terms of colour and material. It fit perfectly, though, and it occurred to him that the only way Inara could have known his size was if she had spent some considerable time observing him.

It sent an odd feeling through him, to know that all the time he had been cursing himself for being so gorram _aware_ of her in every way, she hadn't exactly been immune herself.

And that was the reason why he was standing outside her shuttle door now, with sweaty palms and a tight stomach, feeling no better than a teen all over again. Damn the woman for having so much power over him.

He wiped his hands on his pants and took a deep breath before he knocked on the door. If he was going to do this, he may as well do it right.

'Come in,' she called, and he entered.

She was seated at the mirror, brushing her long hair. She looked impossibly beautiful, untouchable in an ethereal sort of way.

She met his eyes in the mirror, and her smile was teasing. 'Did I just hear Malcolm Reynolds _knocking_?'

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rubbing at the back of his neck.

'Zoe was saying how you've been doing the accounts these past three weeks.'

She nodded, the smile leaving her face. 'I thought it was the least I could do, seeing as Wash—'

She broke off, and he nodded, feeling like something had hit him in the gut. It was still hard to think the man was gone, he often found himself with Wash's name on his lips whenever he entered the bridge.

'I continued using his system,' she said, moving to her trunk and drawing out the accounts ledger. 'But it now shows the savings too, I added that myself.'

He nodded as he ran his eye over the figures.

'Thank you,' he said gruffly, and she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

'It was my pleasure,' she said, eyes soft. 'I'm glad I could make myself useful somehow.'

It was all the impetus he needed.

'I—uh—got you something,' he said, reaching a careful hand into his pocket. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and he hurried on. 'It's nothing much, it's just—I saw it planet side today and I just thought you might like it…'

He stopped himself with an effort, and taking a deep breath, pulled his hand out of his pocket.

She blinked, and it was a moment before she hesitantly took the flower from his hand. She raised it to her nose, and took a deep sniff, her eyes closed and a smile lighting her face.

He had thought of her the moment he had seen it on the planet, a splash of bright red against the brown of the dirt. It was just a tiny little thing, but it had caught his eye among all the other sights on the planet.

He knew the petals would be soft and silken to the touch, much like he imagined her skin to be. The scent was heady, but light enough so it wasn't cloying. It had been growing among a bunch of thistles, and it had seemed an oddly appropriate gift for her—she was much the same, an exotic flower lending colour to his ship.

'It's lovely,' she said, touching a petal with a gentle fingertip. 'Thank you,' she said, smiling at him uncertainly.

'Yeah, well,' he scratched at his ear. 'It ain't much, but I wanted you to have it.'

Her smile didn't falter, and he tugged at his suspenders as he looked away.

'Well, I have Captain type things to do with this,' he said, waving the ledger, 'So I'll leave you to it.'

He turned as he moved to the door, almost without knowing why.

Inara was still caressing the flower, a small smile curving her lips.

--

'She did _not_!' Inara gasped, laughing.

'But she did,' Mal said ruefully. 'With me standing right outside the door. Took me a while before I could sit in that damned chair again,' he concluded, laughing himself.

She giggled again, and he smiled as he took a sip of his wine.

They had taken to sitting up together late at night, him and Inara. She'd wander into the kitchen and start some tea whenever she couldn't sleep, it gave her something to do. Mal himself had never been able to sleep through the night, and oftentimes he'd join her at the table. The ritual had taken on the comfort of routine, and had soon become their time away from the rest of the world.

'How come I've never heard this story before?' Inara asked, sipping at the beverage in her own mug.

'Well, he always said he'd be the one to tell it at his twenty fifth wedding anniversary party,' he replied, still chuckling. 'That Wash…' The name died abruptly in his throat, and he trailed off into silence.

He felt her lay a hand on his arm, but it didn't stop it, couldn't stop it.

'Was my fault,' he said abruptly, pushing his mug away. The wine felt like it was souring in his stomach.

'What?'

He shook his head angrily. He didn't much want to repeat himself. 'It was my fault,' he growled. 'What happened to Wash.'

'How can you say that?' her voice rose. 'It was those _yaoguài_ Reavers—'

'And who put him in their path? Me,' he said, daring her to deny it. 'I was the one who wanted to get to Miranda, _I_ was the one who wanted to see what the hell all the fuss was about.'

He slumped over the table a little, and sighed. 'Sometimes I wonder how long it'll take Zoe to say it, to finally say that she wishes it were me instead'a him.'

Inara gasped, and he looked up in surprise. He hadn't realised he'd said that out loud. Gorramn wine.

'Mal—'

She stopped. Well, what _could_ she say that? Wasn't a way to make it any less true.

'Mal,' she said again, 'It's _tragic_ that we lost Wash, and the Sheperd. But their deaths are not on your conscience. That _ta-ma-de húndàn_ of an Operative killed them.'

'Coulda done what he wanted, maybe saved their lives.'

'You would have given up Simon and River?'

He shifted in his seat. He hadn't really thought about it at the time, he'd only known that the girl had been helpless and that he couldn't have abandoned her no more than he could've abandoned Kaylee in similar circumstances.

'You wouldn't have,' Inara said into the silence, her voice soft. 'You _couldn't_ have, it's just not in you.'

'Well, it was _my_ decision,' he said in a low tone. 'Doesn't seem right that they had to pay for what I did.'

'I know,' she said, hand tightening on his arm. He'd forgotten it was there, had almost grown used to feeling the heat of her open palm on his skin.

'It's late, I should get to bed,' he said, looking away from her delicate hand on his skin. 'We've a job to get to tomorrow.'

She nodded, her hand dropping from his arm quickly as she looked away.

'Nara,' he said, suddenly wanting her to know that he was…grateful? That he was thankful that she gave him her friendship when he had need of it.

She looked at him, and without thinking about it, he reached a hand to her face. The last time he'd touched her like this, she'd flinched and hurried away to her shuttle. This time, he was more careful, touching her like he would a skittish filly.

She didn't flinch, but her lips parted gently, and he could see in the dim light that her eyes had dilated.

Almost in a daze, he leaned forward, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She stayed still, but he could hear her breathing growing shallow as he got closer.

And then his lips were on hers.

Later, he could not remember who had broken away first, nor how he had gotten back to his bunk. All he could remember was the dazed look in Inara's eyes, the blush on her cheek and the softness of her lips. The way she had clutched at his shoulders and the way she had seemed almost speechless afterward.

But what he remembered most of all was the taste.

She tasted like honey.

His mama had once gotten hold of a bottle, way back when he'd been a kid, and he'd never forgotten the sweetness of it, the way it had melted in his mouth.

She tasted just like it, like a deep, rich honey.

In the darkness of his bunk, he smiled.

--

He had kissed her.

Malcolm Reynolds had kissed her.

And she was fairly certain it hadn't been the wine. He'd actually made the first move, he'd reached out for her and kissed her.

It was terrifying.

It was thrilling.

She didn't know what to make of it.

She didn't sleep much that night, reliving those few moments in his arms over and over again in the darkness of her shuttle. When morning finally came, she was a nervous wreck. What would she say to him when she saw him again? What would _he_ say?

Inara dressed with great attention that day, taking some time to cosmetically remove all evidence of her sleepless night. She took a deep breath as she entered the galley, steeling herself for whatever might lay ahead.

He hadn't arrived yet, she noted as she slid into her usual seat. She reached for the basket of apples in the middle of the table, a sign of their recent prosperity. Kaylee and River were sitting off to one side, talking and laughing over the fruit. Simon glanced their way occassionaly, a smile lighting his face. Jayne was eating a speared apple silently, as was Zoe. Of Mal, there was still no sign.

As she cut into the fresh fruit, Inara glanced at the entrance again. It wasn't like him to be late. She was just finishing up when he entered. He looked freshly showered, she could see his hair curling wetly over his collar. He appeared to have dressed with care, his shirt was new, and she could see that his boots were polished and shining. He sat down opposite her silently, reaching for an apple casually.

She glanced at him from between her eyelashes, wondering what his first words to her would be.

'Inara?'

She looked up at his serious face, and held her breath.

'Could you pass the coffee, please?'

She blinked, sure that she had heard wrong. When he continued to stare at her, she picked up the pot and handed it to him wordlessly.

Coffee? After all their dancing around each other, and when they'd finally started to move forward… he was thinking about _coffee_?

Well, if he wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them, she'd… she'd stand up and announce to the whole damn crew that he'd kissed her last night, that's what she'd do!

She glowered at him, annoyed that he could be so calmly drinking coffee without a care in the world, when she was fuming just feet away from him. He wanted to keep it quiet, and perversely, she felt like telling everyone _just_ what had happened between them.

She stabbed at a piece of apple with her fork and glared at him, just in time to see him look back at her, amusement glittering in his blue eyes. Clearly, he was aware of what she was feeling.

She stopped for a moment, thought about it with a cooler head, and decided that she approved.

He was right to keep it a secret. The whole of the crew didn't need to know what they were and weren't doing. Privacy was at a premium on a space ship, everybody knew everything. It was nice that the others weren't aware of this, _this_ was something that was no one else's, owned only by them.

She looked up at him after a moment, and smiled softly. He blinked, before smiling back at her. He turned away from her then, and spoke to Zoe. But she was conscious of his eyes on her many times throughout the meal, and she had to work hard to ignore him when she was talking to Simon and River.

That night, she paced about the kitchen nervously as she waited for him. She hadn't wanted it to seem like she was waiting for him, so she had set the kettle on, ostensibly making some tea, as she usually did.

After breakfast, Mal had left for a job with Jayne and Zoe, and she had spent a restless time in the kitchen making lunch, for want of something better to do. They had returned in time for dinner, thankfully without any injuries, and Mal had been in a very good mood as he'd recounted his planetside adventures for his eager audience of Kaylee and River. He'd smiled at her warmly as he'd spooned dinner into his plate, but he'd said nothing.

And now he was going to be here in the next few minutes.

She curled her hands into fists as she paced the tiny galley. She'd brought along a book, but as worked up as she was, it all looked like gibberish to her. She paused on her second circuit of the galley, wondering what exactly it was about this particular man that tied her up in such knots. Maybe it was the fact that he was never predictable. She could never figure out what he'd do next, and for that, he'd always intrigue her.

As he had, when he'd given her that flower. She had been given plenty of flowers in her life, been presented with bushels of more exotic and expensive flora, but this had been the only one she'd preserved, keeping it safely pressed, like some sentimental schoolgirl.

Perhaps it was the very fact that it was Malcolm Reynolds who had given her the flower that had garnered that reaction from her.

She dropped into a chair and opened her book quickly, appearing absorbed in it as Mal came round the corner and entered the galley.

He paused in the doorway, and she carefully marked her place in the book and looked up at him casually.

He cleared his throat. 'Um, sorry I'm late.'

She nodded as if it was of no importance, and the kettle chose that moment to whistle. She poured out the two cups of tea as he sat down, and placed one in front of him. He wrapped his hands around the mug, and she found her gaze drawn to them. He'd touched her so gently with those hands last night…

Despite herself, she could feel her cheeks warming, and she quickly took a gulp of her tea to distract herself.

'We had a good day, today.'

She looked up at him inquiringly, and he went on. 'The job went off without a hitch, we got paid, and no one was hurt—I count that a good day.'

She nodded. 'Jayne seems to be sporting a new bruise, though,' she said.

He grinned, and she found herself smiling in reply. 'That was just Jayne being _Jayne_,' he said. 'Man was fool enough to get himself into a bar fight.'

'Was anyone else hurt?' she asked concernedly.

He shook his head, still smiling. 'Only the rest of the bar patrons.'

She chuckled, and took a sip of her drink. 'We had a very uninteresting day, ourselves. Kaylee and River were in my shuttle all day, painting their nails and doing their hair with my very limited supplies, while Simon was busy inventorying the infirmary—_again_.'

Mal shook his head, and took a sip. 'Sometimes I just do not get it,' he said, speculatively. 'How does a free spirited girl like our Kaylee get along with such a repressed, _un-fun_ man like the doc?'

'Opposites attract, Mal,' she said, finishing her tea. Then she frowned in thought. She'd never really held to that belief. 'Or maybe they're just enough alike that they can get along, and _just_ enough different to strike sparks off each other.'

She looked at him, and saw that the laughter had left his face, and she realised that they weren't speaking about Kaylee and Simon anymore.

They stared at each other for a timeless moment, and then he looked away. It was only when she felt her chest hurt that she realised she had been holding her breath.

'I guess this is good night, then,' he said, looking into his mug.

She felt disappointment flicker through her, and it was only because she had trained as a Companion that she didn't haul off and hit him. She nodded frostily, and got to her feet, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she'd start yelling. The way he'd looked at her, she'd been _sure_…

'Don't I get a goodnight kiss?'

She spun around, a scathing refusal on her lips, but he seemed to have anticipated it, because he was right behind her, now, and the look in his eyes was her undoing. He leaned forward, and she felt herself tumbling headlong into a rush of sensation as his lips found hers.

If last night, he had been unsure and almost timid, tonight he kissed her like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted. His mouth nipped at hers, their lips and tongues meeting and parting until they were both left breathless and panting, their breaths mingling as stared at each other.

'Good night,' he said huskily.

'Good night,' she replied, leaning up to press her lips to his once last time. Then she turned and left the room, feeling slightly lightheaded over the turn of events.

She got used to it, though, by the third night.

Day by day, there was less conversation and more kissing. Soon, she had forgone the tea altogether, and they fell into each other's arms almost as soon as he arrived. Day by day, it was getting harder and harder to leave his arms and make her way back to her shuttle.

Until the day she didn't.

--

It started out like any other night, she was sitting at the table, impatiently tapping her fingers on the table. He felt a grin twist his lips as he entered the galley, it was still an incredible thing for him, to have someone waiting for him.

'Where were you?' she said as she stood up from her seat. 'I've been waiting ten minutes now.'

'There was something I had to see to in the engine room,' he said, taking her in his arms. He periodically checked up on the catalyser, after his harrowing experience with the life support failure, it was something he just _had_ to do.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. 'I'm sorry I'm late,' he said huskily.

'You're not forgiven yet,' she said, smiling dreamily.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Hmm, we'll have to see what I can do about that,' he replied. She was still smiling as he kissed her again.

His hands came up to cup her face, that beautiful face he'd often dreamed about, and she sighed against his mouth, the sound igniting his insides. His mouth dropped to her neck and she moved restlessly against him. Would she feel the same when she moved over his bare skin, he wondered dazedly. He groaned low in his throat at the thought.

He licked a path up her neck, and she shivered, a gasp on her lips. He felt like he couldn't get enough of her, he wanted to taste every inch of her, to put his mouth all over her luscious body…

His lips moved to her ear lobe, and he nipped at the delicate flesh, delighting in the shudder she could not supress.

'Inara,' he whispered hotly into her ear.

--

She was melting.

There was no other word for it. His hands, so hot and so hard on her, were turning her to liquid. She wondered that they hadn't gone up in flames together, she felt almost incandescent with the pleasure of his touch.

And the way he had said her name—when had _anyone_ ever said her name in quite that way? Like he was dying for want of her?

Unaccountably, she felt a surge of raw feminine power go through her. That she could make _this_ man feel that way…

'Mal,' she said softly, nipping at his chin, running her lips over the cleft. Her hands feathered over his chest, she could feel his heart beating in response, hard and fast. It matched the blood pounding in her veins with abandon, and her fingers curled in an unconscious caress.

He responded by touching his tongue to the pulse tripping in her neck, and she moaned softly. She pulled at his shirt, tugging the first few buttons out of their holes. Slowly, she pulled it off, sighing with pleasure as her eager hands found his skin. She ran her fingers lightly over his flesh, enjoying the heat coming off him in waves.

She licked her lips, and she saw his blue eyes grow impossibly hotter. And then he was on her again, leaving no room for thought as his mouth met hers again and again and again…

He drew her closer to him, pulling her body flush with his with an arm around her waist. She rubbed against him with a smile, and he fairly growled. He pulled away from her, and looked her in the eye.

'I think it's time we called it a night,' he said, running a hand through her hair almost as if he couldn't help it.

She frowned, staring at him in dismay. She decidedly did _not_ want to call it a night, to go back to her lonely bed and to lie awake thinking of him, body aching and heart pounding.

'Mal,' she said, softly. 'Do we really need to?'

He looked at her, his gaze serious. 'Inara,' he said, rubbing at his ear, 'I don't want to rush you into anything—'

She rolled her eyes. The man really was an idiot sometimes. She didn't say anything, however, instead she leaned forward and kissed him hard, letting the tip of her tongue play against his.

--

It took him a moment to open his eyes after she'd stepped away from him.

'Inara?'

She smiled, her lips swollen and pink. He felt a bolt of lust hit him at the thought that _he_ had done that to her, made her look all mussed up and well and thoroughly loved.

He stepped closer to her, a question in his eyes as he raised his hands to her dress. Very, very gently, he drew her bodice down, ready to stop if she wanted it, but hoping fervently that he wouldn't have to. If she stopped him now, he was going to have to space himself. There was no way he could go back to his bunk all by his lonesome tonight, not without having had her first.

She didn't say anything, however, and for that he was unutterably grateful. Finally, finally, she naked from the waist up and he feasted his eyes on her for several long minutes. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He set a gentle hand on her waist, and looked up at her. Her eyes were dark and inviting, and her breath was coming in sharp gasps, making those fantastic breasts heave up and down.

Leaning forward, he slowly swept his tongue inside her mouth, moving his hand higher all the while. He brushed her left breast, and she gasped. He did it again, more firmly this time, and she moaned. He settled his hand onto her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm. Her nipple was stiff, and he flicked a thumb over the peak, drawing another moan from her.

'Oh God, Mal,' she said softly.

He smiled. He decided he liked the sound of that. He had to see if he could make her say it again.

He searched wildly for the nearest flat surface, which in this case was the kitchen table. He heaved her up with a grunt, and set her on the table top, moving into the space between her gracefully outflung legs.

He moved his mouth over the soft, delicately scented skin of her breasts, enjoying the way she moved against him. Carefully, he eased her dress over her legs and off her body, leaving her completely naked to his gaze. She blushed, and he could see it start all over her body, moving up to settle in her cheeks.

Tenderly, he smoothed his hands over her, taking pleasure in the sensual feel of her hot skin under his fingertips. He'd often wondered what she'd feel like under his hands, and now he knew. She was like a living flame, and all of a sudden, the image of her burning beneath him, on fire for him, rose up in his mind, and he felt his stomach clench in response.

He trailed his hand a little lower, letting his hands slide over her legs, which moved restlessly on the table. She gasped when he reached her centre and slid his fingers inside. As he felt her overheated skin tease his fingertips, he suppressed a low growl of triumph. It felt strange, but right then he was all primitive male, and the thought that this beautiful creature who had tormented his dreams actually wanted him, too, was intoxicating.

'Mal,' she said, her voice impossibly breathy.

He felt a thrill go through him at the sound and he leaned down again, kissing her neck as he slowly moved his fingers. Soon she was moaning and sighing, and kissing every part of him she could reach. She bit down hard on his ear lobe, but he didn't care, the sight of her writhing in his arms was well worth the slight discomfort.

'Mal,' she said again, and this time, there was a demand in the honey of her voice.

--

He looked into her eyes, and she nodded.

With a grunt, he frantically worked to divest himself of the rest of his clothes. And then he was on her again, the hard angles and planes of his body pressing into her as he kissed her. He broke away from her and tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her head back as he laved her neck with open mouthed kisses.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her a little so he could slide into her. She whimpered as she felt him fill her, and he stilled, face twisted with pleasure. She felt his breath leave him on a shaky exhalation, and she knew that he was fighting for control.

Leaning forward, she bit gently into his shoulder, and felt him shudder under her tongue. He moved in her, almost involuntarily, and it was her turn to gasp. With that he started to move, his mouth still on her neck. His eyelashes tickled her as he moved, and she had to stifle a giggle.

And then he bit into her flesh and laved the spot with his hot, hot tongue. It was too much, and her hands flew up to cup his face, her thumb carressing his mouth. His lips parted on an exhale, and he drew the digit into his warm mouth. She felt his tongue move over her skin, and couldn't stop the twitch of her hips. Her eyes had nearly rolled back into her head by this time, but he managed to lock gazes with her somehow, and his eyes were on fire.

And then she was falling, and he was following her, his gasp of pleasure muffled in her neck.

Predictably, he was the first to speak and ruin the tranquility of the moment.

'I'm sorry,' he said huskily.

She drew away from him in shock. If he was going to apologise for finally giving in and doing what they had both wanted for so long, she was going to hit him, Companion training or not.

'Our first time shouldn't have been on a kitchen table,' he said, eyeing the surroundings with distaste. He shook his head ruefully. 'I'm afraid you just got me too damn worked up.'

She felt a relieved smile curve her lips, and she scanned the galley herself. They had spent so many good times here, with the crew, _and_ by themselves, these past few weeks…

'No, this was the perfect place,' she said affectionately.

He must have seen something in her gaze, because he smiled too, and kissed her forehead.

'Think you can stand?'

She nodded, getting off the table with a wince. 'I'm going to risk it.'

He stooped and pulled his pants on, and soon located his shirt while she pulled her dress on again. And then she gasped as he scooped her into his arms.

'Mal!'

'What, you didn't think this night was _over_, did you?'

She felt her heart beating faster at the look in his eye, and she smiled as he carried her off to his bunk.

--

Mal smirked as he made his way to the shuttle.

Last night had been…well…'incredible' was too pale a word for it, but it was all that he had.

After the galley, they'd had sex against the wall of his bunk, unable to wait until longer. And then they had fallen into bed, exhausted, only to wake up today to early morning love making, short and sweet, with a lazy kind of intensity to it.

They'd split up a little while later, with Inara going back to her shuttle before the rest of the crew were up and about. They'd arrived to breakfast separately, and there had been a lovely flush to Inara's cheek all through the meal.

He'd wanted to follow her to her shuttle soon after, but Kaylee had cornered him with something about compression coils and fumigators, and he'd only been able to break away a few minutes ago.

Now there was a spring in his step and a grin on his face as he entered Inara's shuttle. He could almost imagine the smile that would light up her face when she saw him…

He stopped when he heard her voice.

'Sheydra, you must understand that I cannot just return like that! It's not that simple—'

'You're leaving?'

She spun around, her eyes wide. Then they narrowed, and she glared at him. Ignoring him, she turned back to the cortex screen.

'I'll wave you back, Sheydra.'

The woman nodded, her eyes moving to him curiously. He could almost see her measuring him up, and finding him somehow lacking. It did nothing to cool his temper.

The screen went blank, and Inara turned to face him.

'How many times have I told you to knock, Mal? You can't just barge in here when I'm on the cortex—'

'So you're leaving, is it?' he gritted out, the words feeling like they were hurting his throat. 'Going back to your whore school?'

Her face tightened with unmistakable anger. 'That is the last time, Mal,' she said coldly. 'The last time you _ever_ say that to me. This time, I _mean_ it.'

'Not saying it doesn't make it any less true, does it?' he lashed out, perversely enjoying the fact that he was hurting her as much as she had hurt him.

She turned away from him, and took a deep breath. 'What do you want, Mal?' she asked.

It occurred to him that he had never heard her sound like that. Her voice seemed to be cracking under the strain, he could hear the anger underneath the words.

He laughed mirthlessly. 'Doesn't matter now. Time for some truth telling. You leaving again?'

She turned to face him then, and stared at him in silence for a long time.

'If I stay here, with you, will it ever work between us? Would you have room for me in your bed, _me_, a Companion?'

His voice rose despite himself. 'More like I should be asking you if you'd have room for me in _your_ bed.'

She sighed, and there was a world of weariness in the sound.

'We can't keep doing this,' she said, slumping onto her bed. 'I can't fight you on this. I am a Companion, Mal. And you will _always_ have a problem with that.'

'Seems to me that you can quit,' he said, crossing his arms.

'Quit?' she flashed. 'Give up my whole life, everything I've worked for all these years—and for what, Mal? What would I be then? The Captain's personal _whore_?'

He flinched at the word, it sounded unaccountably dirty when she referred to herself that way.

'I'd have no role on your ship,' she said coldly. 'And I refuse to be kept by you.'

He narrowed his eyes. She'd certainly had no objections to being 'kept' by all those _hwoon daan_ clients of hers, but _him_, she had a problem with?

'It's easy for you to ask me to quit,' she cried. '_Your_ life wouldn't be the one changing completely.' She paused, and said a little more quietly, 'It'd be like asking you to give up Serenity.'

'Whoa, now—'

'You see that I am not asking you that,' she said softly. 'And you have no call to ask me to give up _my_ life.'

'So that's it, then?' he said, throat tight. 'We just go our separate ways now?'

She said nothing, eyes filled with pain.

'And what was last night? A goodbye?'

She pressed her lips tightly together, and nodded.

He bowed his head, hands on his hips. A goodbye. After all this time, after all that had happened between them… He chuckled bitterly. He should have known she was never going to stay.

He nodded once, and took a deep breath.

'I guess you'll be wanting to pack, and—' he waved an arm about, not able to meet her eyes. 'Best be gettin' out of your way.'

And he turned and left the shuttle, very carefully not looking back.

That was how it should have ended, but then they were both too stubborn to let go of something they wanted, and they had decided that they wanted each other.

--

She didn't get much sleep that night.

She had stayed in her shuttle all day, despite Kaylee coming over with a plate of food when she didn't appear for lunch. She refused to tell the younger girl anything, denying that anything was wrong, she was just feeling slightly under the weather, nothing for Simon to worry about.

Kaylee hadn't seemed convinced, but the mechanic had left soon. She hadn't gone down to dinner, afraid she'd see Mal. It angered her that she had grown so cowardly, but it was true, seeing him would only bring on a fresh bout of pain, and she didn't think she could handle it right then.

Now it was past midnight, according to her hourglass, and she still wasn't able to sleep. In the end, she gave in, and crept down to the galley for some tea, sure that wherever else Mal was tonight, this was the one place she could be sure he would never be, atleast not voluntarily.

She should have remembered his penchant for unpredictability.

He looked up with wide eyes as she entered, sitting at the table with his hands wrapped around a mug. She flushed as she remembered what they'd been doing just yesterday on that very table, and then her heart hurt at the thought.

'I was just—'

She looked up as Mal spoke, and shook her head. 'It's alright, I was—' She made to move back to the doorway, when his voice stopped her, weary and filled with fatigue.

'Let's not do this anymore, Inara. How about you just do what you came here to do, and I'll finish my tea and be on my way.'

She nodded, sliding into a seat. It was just as well. She didn't think she could stand much longer.

She looked around the room, taking her time, appreciating way the yellow paint gave the room a mellow glow, and the little flowery design on the cabinets that she was sure Kaylee had done.

She stopped as her gaze fell on the top right cabinet. She had never noticed that the door was crooked, as if someone had inexpertly put it up.

Had it always been that way, and she had never failed to notice it before this moment? What else would she forget? She looked at Mal as he stared into his tea, lost in his own world.

Would she forget him, too? Little things, like the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his eyes lit up the tiniest bit whenever he saw Kaylee and River, or the way he crossed his arms, the way his hands had been shaking when they'd made love last night…

He looked up at her, just in time to see a tear fall from her eye.

He was up and beside her before she knew it, hands cupping her face and thumb wiping away the tears. She was weeping openly now, her hands having come up to rest on his own.

'Nara,' he said, locking gazes with her, 'Everything in the 'verse deserves a fighting chance.'

She looked at him, eye brimming with tears. 'Does that mean—'

'I don't know about you, darlin', but _I'm_ willin' to fight.'

With that, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, turned and left the galley.

She saw him again at lunch the next day.

Inara had fallen into bed soon after her run in with Mal in the galley, and she had lain there in the darkness, head in a whirl and heart in turmoil.

She had finally come to a decision in the early hours, and had then fallen into a troubled sleep, from which she woke at noon. Fifteen minutes later, she was ready to see Mal.

A conversation was in full swing by the time she arrived, and unsurprisingly enough, Mal took no part in it, instead brooding at the head of the table.

'Hello,' she said softly, and the conversation stopped. She dropped into her seat, and Kaylee beamed at her.

'Inara! Glad you're feelin' better.'

She gave the girl a smile. 'Thank you for your concern, _mei mei_.'

Zoe stared at her for a moment, and Inara could see that the other woman had probably guessed what had been happening between her and Mal, right from the very beginning. The first mate nodded solemnly, and turned back to her meal. Taking that as her blessing, Inara turned to the still silent Mal.

'I spoke to my contact about the Lassiter,' she said, voice steady as she kept her eyes trained on him. He looked up in surprise, and she continued. 'I'm to wave her with the further details. She said she'd be looking forward to doing business with us.'

His eyes widened with the realisation of what she was telling him, and he made a quick movement toward her before he caught himself.

'That's—' He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. 'That's shiny.'

'S' there something I'm missin' here?'

Simon groaned at Jayne's statement.

'What?' the mercernary asked, licking off his spoon, even as Zoe started to chuckle.

'Is there _any_ way you could be less tactful?'

River giggled at her brother's statement, and somehow, that broke the tension. Inara smiled, and Mal grinned back at her. She turned to her plate, and picked up her fork.

Things weren't perfect, not by a long shot. There were still a lot of issues they had to work through, she had no illusions about that. And maybe it wouldn't work out in the end, but atleast she'd know she'd tried.

If that was to be their fate, to end one day in a blaze of anger and hurt, then so be it.

For now, she could look at the crew—their little family—gathered in this place where they had shared so many happy memories, she could glance at Mal smiling at something Kaylee was saying, and know that she had made the right decision.

--

They compromised.

She agreed to give up sleeping with other men if he would agree not to die on her.

She worked as a Companion for a few more years before giving it up all together. She took care to choose clients that had needs other than the sexual. He was never entirely comfortable with it, and the nights following her appointments were always full of possessive and slightly angry sex, but they learned to deal with it.

He stopped taking unnecessary risks on his jobs, aware that he now had someone waiting for him back on Serenity. Someone who would be _very_ pissed off if he managed to get himself shot, or worse, killed.

They fought, and didn't speak to each other for days on end. They made love and healed each other when they needed it. They worried over Kaylee and River and kept the crew together.

Between them, they kept Serenity flying.

And that was how it was.

--

End.

A/N: Aaah! is brain dead

It's only now that I realise just HOW DAMN LONG this fic is.

Seriously, I fear for you, readers! Review, and tell me if you're still alive!


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